At Poole's Cavern, Derbyshire

By
Lotte Kramer /
December 14, 1989

Now duck your head And step inside the darkest hill, The cave where rivers start, Where water sculpts More mysteries and shapes Than man can contemplate. Walk gingerly and see: The forest calcified, The columns guarding Secret passages, The hollow spears above Descend from boulders; The shades of half-tones Leering gray to blue Surprised by orange, chalk; And even stars will glisten As you hear millennia grow In single waterdrops. But all the time the chill Invades you, dampness Skins your face and hair, You turn and touch your way Back to escape, greedy For light's horizon.